Come Home With Me
by nondescriptf
Summary: "You should've been a Bass," he said cruelly. Blair could hear the jealousy in his voice and she didn't want to have this argument right now. She should have left earlier, when she had a chance, this was a mistake. C/B. Oneshot.


Thanks to Uncorazonquebrado for betaing, you are flawless and to Ollie for still listening to me rant, you are totally perf. Hope you enjoy!

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Blair frowned as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. As she tucked back a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the diamonds around her neck twinkled back at her. She touched a hand to her throat, her wedding band making its presence known, as she wondered how foolish she was being. Her husband had been out of town for almost two weeks, and she felt so restless that she didn't want to stay in, as she had practically every night since he had left for his business trip. Tonight, she wanted to go out for a drink and forget about everything.

She glanced at herself one final time before making her way out of the luxurious penthouse that was her home. She refused to look at the family photograph hanging in the foyer as Dorota draped a coat over her shoulders, her eyes widening at her choice in clothing.

"You are meeting Mrs. Serena, yes?" Her trusty maid asked hopefully.

Instead of answering, Blair glared at her as the elevator doors closed with the parting words, "Don't wait up for me."

There was a tinge of nervous excitement that she hadn't felt in a long time, and for the umpteenth time, she wondered if she wasn't going out looking for trouble. When her limo pulled up to the familiar establishment, her heart skipped a beat. Her driver opened her door and she stepped out onto the street. The bouncer took one look at her and parted the curtains, granting her immediate access.

It had been two months since she was last inside Victrola, and yet she couldn't help but marvel at how very little had changed from the first time she stepped through the doors, as she did every time she revisited it. For all she knew, she could be sixteen years old again, freshly broken up with Nate and looking for an escape.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that it was a Tuesday night, or perhaps it was because it was only 9pm, but the burlesque club was only moderately busy. Checking her coat in at the door, she made her way to the row of empty bar stools, ignoring the frank looks of admiration of the men she walked by. She knew she looked good, _no_, she looked amazing—the snug, strapless, blood-red dress did everything to enhance her beauty. The bartender rushed over to her.

"Mrs.—"

"I'll have a gin martini, a double," she interrupted. There was no need to be reminded of her marital status, especially when she was there trying to forget that very fact.

"Right away," he nodded as he quickly set out to make her a drink.

Blair drummed her fingers against the wooden bar impatiently, she wanted the drink yesterday, needed it to take the edge off. She looked down at her hands and couldn't stop staring at her wedding band—it was stunning. Even looking at it brought memories of her wedding, the moment her husband had slipped the ring onto her finger and whispered the words _I do_, caused her heart to clench. She began fiddling with the platinum band, twisting it over and over again. This was a mistake, she shouldn't be here. Just as she was about to push away from her seat, the bartender returned, placing her beverage in front of her. Well, one taste couldn't hurt, she thought as she greedily took a large sip. As the alcohol slowly made its way through her veins, she began to relax.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," a familiar and husky voice murmured into her ear.

She inhaled sharply, as she felt his breath against her skin. He was so close, and she couldn't believe she hadn't sensed his presence earlier.

"Chuck," she said breathily, cursing herself for the way she practically purred his name.

"Blair."

He stepped back and took the seat next to her, and she watched as his eyes devoured her from head to toe. She forced herself to remain motionless, commanding her body not to respond.

"You look absolutely delectable—did you dress for me?"

"Why would you think that?" She asked icily, hoping her tone masked the flickers of desire that was growing inside her.

"I don't know. You're in my club, wearing the necklace I gave you and a dress that screams _fuck me_, so call it a hunch," he drawled casually.

"I wanted a drink, Chuck, that's all. I didn't know you would be here." She took another sip, being so close to him physically was wreaking havoc on her nerves. When she set her glass down, she couldn't stop herself from fiddling with her wedding ring again.

His eyes narrowed.

"How is your _husband_? Is he out of town, again?" Chuck said roughly.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Hasn't he learned the dangers of leaving you alone for so long?" He reached out and ran a finger up her arm. "You always end up where you belong—in _my_ bed."

Blair stared straight ahead—the slightest movement would give her away. She closed her eyes, as he scraped his nail back down her arm, causing goose bumps.

"Is that why you're here? Did you want a repeat performance from last time?"

"No," she denied hotly as her eyes flew open. "I didn't even know you were going to be here."

"You said that already."

"Did I?" She asked nervously.

Chuck stood up and placed his tumbler of scotch next to her drink. Suddenly, he was behind her, one hand resting on the railing, trapping her between him and bar. He removed an ice cube from his glass, and slowly ran it against her exposed skin—starting from her neck and down along her shoulder blades. She shivered as he traced patterns and nearly moaned in protest when he stopped to drop the ice cube back into his cup. Her disappointment didn't last long, as his mouth was suddenly following the same route the ice had, his teeth scraping lightly against her skin. Her eyes were closed, and she leaned back against him.

"Chuck," She whimpered when his mouth left her body. "Stop, before someone sees."

"But you know how much I adore the way scotch tastes on your skin," he murmured into her ear. "Such a unique vintage, Blair-flavored."

"Please, Chuck—" She begged.

He pulled away and spun her around so she was facing him. His eyes were dark and possessive. "Come home with me."

"I can't," she stuttered. The temptation was too great, she had missed him so much. It aggravated her to no end that something as simple as a touch was enough to ignite her lust, make her want to throw caution to the wind and forget everything but the magic that was him and her.

"Blair, I've missed you. Come home with me," Chuck said softly.

It was the combination of lust and tenderness that undid her—every time.

"We have to stop doing this, it's not right," she began.

"You should've been a Bass," he said cruelly. Blair could hear the jealousy in his voice and she didn't want to have this argument right now. She should have left earlier, when she had a chance, this was a mistake. But she knew she wouldn't budge an inch, unless it was with him—because her body was screaming with a need only he could fulfill.

Then as if to reassure her that she had made the right decision, Chuck did the thing that always made her give into him. He leaned over and kissed her on the edge of her mouth, almost chastely. "Please, Blair, I need you."

She silently cursed his ability to use her weaknesses against her. He knew she couldn't resist when he said please. She also knew how much he hated admitting that he still needed her.

Nodding her head in agreement, she leaned in to kiss him again—only properly, this time. He growled as he locked her body against his. She opened her mouth to let his tongue slide in, and it took only seconds for them to be in the throes of a passionate kiss. She molded her body to his as her hands found their way to his hair, digging her fingernails into his skull. He hissed in satisfaction as he tore his mouth from hers, and began trailing kisses down her neck.

When he bit her harder than she was used to, she realized exactly where they were.

"Chuck," she said warningly. "People are watching."

"Let them," he said against her skin. "Everyone should see who you belong to."

"Please," she managed to squeak. His tongue was drawing patterns on her clavicle as his hands rubbed circles on her hips. "Let's get out of here."

"Say it," he ordered.

She shook her head.

"Say it," he repeated. "Otherwise, everyone will continue getting a free show."

Blair bit her lip. She felt one hand slip from her hip and make its way down her thigh, slowly sliding back up underneath her dress. She knew without a doubt that he would continue his threat without hesitation, and she would be powerless to stop him.

"Unless that's what you've wanted all along?" Chuck asked as his hand cupped her bottom. He hotly whispered in her ear, "Are you planning on performing tonight? Does the exhibitionist in you want to come out and play?"

Her eyes closed as she arched against him. She needed to feel him inside her, _now_.

"I'm yours," she conceded. His hands stilled their journey. In a softer tone she emphasized, "_Only yours_."

Chuck looked into her eyes and smiled triumphantly. With a sigh of contentment, he pulled away and offered his arm to her. She rolled her eyes as she placed her hand on his elbow, Chuck and his random gestures of chivalry.

"I hope you're not tired," he said wickedly. "I have plans to keep you up all night."

She pretended to be irritated by his words, even though she craved that very thing.

"I need to get my coat," she announced, when they made their way to the door.

"Oh believe me, you'll have no use for it," he gloated. "In fact, you won't be wearing anything, other than me."

"_Chuck_," Blair hissed. "It's the new Marchesa coat, I will _not_ be leaving it for some dumb hussy to claim."

"I'll buy you another one," he said flippantly. With his eyes smoldering, he warned her, "I've missed you, Blair, and if I'm not inside of you within the next three minutes, I can't be held responsible for any of my actions."

"Limo or store room?"

"Is that even a question?" Chuck winked slyly. "The limo, of course. You know how much pleasure I get from reenacting your deflowering."

"Fine, let's hurry then. I want to see exactly how much you've missed me," Blair said cheekily, without a hint of a blush.

They were just about to walk out the door when the longtime manager of Victrola rushed up to them. "Mr. Bass, it's your son, he's on the phone."

Blair pulled away and raised a brow. "Oh, this is going to be good."

Chuck scowled in irritation. "Take a message. Tell him I'm busy and that I'll speak to him in the morning."

The manager looked at both of them uncomfortably before repeating, "He said it was urgent. I believe his exact words were _it's an emergency_."

Chuck crossed his arms as he looked at the poor man. Blair felt a rush of sympathy for the manager who looked miserable, clearly unhappy to be in this position.

"Tell my son, that if it really is an emergency, I expect both the police and fire department to be involved. Now, if you'll excuse me," Chuck said as he looked back at her, "You can see that I'm very, very busy."

With a dismissive nod, Chuck slipped his arm around her waist and attempted to herd her out the door.

"Tsk, tsk, Chuck. It's good to see you're such a responsible parent," Blair couldn't help but needle him. "Tell me, what would his _mother_ think of all of this?"

"_Blair_," he said in a menacing tone.

"I just wonder if she'd approve of your parenting techniques."

"Mr. Bass!" The manager called out again. "Your daughter is on the other line."

Blair pulled out of Chuck's embrace for a second time and crossed her arms. "Seriously?"

The look of frustration on Chuck's face was almost comical. He gritted his teeth and held out his hand for the phone.

She shook her head and taunted him, "Is daddy's little girl more important than his son? I can see your daughter has you wrapped around her little finger."

"Yes," Chuck hissed. Unnecessarily, he rudely added, "She takes after her mother."

He stalked off as he barked into the phone. Blair crossed her arms as she watched the subtle hint of softness that crossed his face, belying the tone of his voice.

A cough notified her that the manager was standing behind her. Turning to look at him, she had an expectant look on her face.

Apologetically, he said, "Mrs. Bass, it's your younger son asking to speak to _you_."

"Is he really?" She asked with amusement. "You can tell him that it's far past his bedtime and whatever bribes his older brother and sister promised him, his father and I can more than double."

Without waiting for a response she walked towards her husband and listened as their daughter was shrieking into the phone so loudly Blair did not have to strain her ears to eavesdrop.

"_This is so embarrassing! You two are in your 40s, do your sex games need to be made public? You guys are all over Gossip Girl! How am I supposed to show my face at Constance tomorrow?"_

"And just how old do you think Gossip Girl is?" Chuck said flatly.

"_Daddy! Can't you at least keep out of eyesight? You own half of Manhattan, isn't there some hotel room you could be in? Better yet, can't you two come home and lock yourselves up in your room—at least it's soundproof so no one else will have to witness this atrocity!" His daughter whined._

"If you and your brother would like to keep from getting your credit card privileges revoked, you will stop calling us. Your mother and I will do whatever we please, whenever we please. The sooner you learn to accept that, the better. Now, if this is the extent of the so-called _emergencies_, I'll consider the crisis averted," Chuck said sternly. It was moments like these he wondered why he and Blair had children to begin with.

"_Yes, Daddy." Their daughter spat petulantly. But then suddenly, in a sweet voice she added, "Did you bring me back something pretty?"_

"Goodnight, princess," he said with an indulgent smile. He hung up the phone and turned back to his wife, who was staring at him with mirth in her eyes.

"So, I have you wrapped around my finger?" Blair teased.

"Ever since you danced on that stage," he leered. He reached out and pulled his wife towards him, and buried his face in her neck, inhaling her familiar scent. "I've missed you so much."

"Promise me, you won't be gone this long again," she demanded. "It's unbearable."

"The next business trip I have that's longer than three days, you are coming with me," he vowed as he stared into her eyes. "I haven't had a good night's sleep without you next to me. And you know how I start to lose my focus when I can't bury myself inside of you."

She brushed her lips against his softly. "If you commit to those terms, they'll be non-negotiable in the future."

"Deal," he agreed happily. "That goes on your part, too—no backing out just because I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere."

"Deal," she said as she smiled at him. Her hands reached out to adjust his tie. "Now, where were we before _your_ children interrupted us?"

"I believe I was going to take you for a _ride_ in our limo," he smarmed.

Chuck leaned over to kiss her, but Blair pulled away with a mischievous smile. Using his tie as a leash, she led him out of Victrola and towards the limo that was waiting outside.

"Welcome home, Mr. Bass," Arthur greeted him.

He didn't have the chance to answer as his wife shoved him eagerly into the limo.

"Arthur, I hope there's a full tank of gas. Mr. Bass and I will be taking the long way home."


End file.
